User blog:Thantosiet/Power Rangers: Lost Ninjas/Episode 39: Lost in the Past
Last time we saw the Shinobi Ranger Mrs. Ramirez had hired a hitman to kill Alex, and convinced Chris to go west and join the Wind Ninjas in Blue Bay Harbor. February 28th, Mojave Airport, California, 10:48 am The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting long shadows across the desert. It was cold enough for Chris to see his breath. Slipping his backpack off his shoulders, he dropped onto a bench near the airport parking lot, and sighed deeply. His legs and back were so cramped from airplane seating they felt permanently crooked. At least he'd managed to get some sleep on this last one. At this point he couldn't even keep track of how many flights he'd taken—but he knew there was only one more before he reached Blue Bay Harbor. So far, there had been no sign of Korassil or any of his forces. What were they waiting for? He checked his watch. Five minutes. According to the voice on the loudspeakers inside, his flight wasn't going to be here for another hour. Chris sighed. Maybe he could go explore the desert or something; he wasn't really in the mood for people right now. A sudden explosion snapped Chris out of his thoughts. He whirled towards the noise—it had come from the town. Kicking his backpack under the bench, Chris broke into a run, weaving between parked cars towards the source of the blast. A column of smoke already marked the spot. "Shinobi Storm, Ranger Form!" Chris stands in a moonlit mesa, surrounded by silver light. The sand begins to swirl up around his legs, glittering, and he spins. Darkness envelops him, forming an undersuit before the silver dust and moonlight combine. They melt together into his Ranger suit, and he strikes a pose. '' Chris saw the foot soldiers immediately—more Kelzak Berserks—and drew Asamune. The katana hummed through the air as he sliced into the first foot soldier from behind. Down it went, as did the next he slashed across the back. A scream rang out from across the street. Chris looked up to see what looked like a ludicrously buff Goth clown, dressed in black and white and metal. Dragging a teenage boy out of an alley, it held him upside-down. He struggled, clawing at the hand locked around his ankle. Chris made to ninja-streak over, but two Kelzak Berserk tonfas struck him in mid-back, knocking him down. As Chris locked weapons with the foot soldiers, something flashed bright green behind him. He looked around in time to see the boy drop out of the clown's grip and scramble away. His pants leg was torn and bloody, and he couldn't seem to put any weight on that foot. Shoving the Kelzak Berserks back, Chris ninja-streaked across the street. Behind him remained a brief image of himself, which the Kelzak Berserks hacked apart. Chris slashed at the backs of the clown monster's legs. The first cut drew a spurt of thick black liquid, making the creature fall to one knee, but the movement took the other out of his swing. Backing up, Chris whirled his sword and stabbed straight down, aiming for the clown monster's back. This time, however, the clown whirled, and the blade only slashed a layer of black leather. With a deep, molasses giggle, the clown grinned down at him. Its lips were bloodred. Chris backed up a few steps, sword raised. "Are you okay?" He asked the teenager. This close, he realized the kid wasn't as old as his scraggly beard made him look—fifteen at the most. "No," the boy said. Clutching his ankle with bloody hands, he looked around fearfully at the monsters. "Please help me—th-they're trying to kill me." Chris turned his attention back to the clown and braced himself. "They won't." Unsteadily, the monster lunged at Chris, and he ninja-streaked to the side. The clown went right through the mirage left behind, and stopped, confused. Before it could recover, Chris lunged at its flank, swinging Asamune low. A second gash to the legs drew a screech of laughter from the monster. "That green flash—what was that?" Chris yelled, springing back to avoid the monster's right hook. "What flash?" Chris parried the fist as it came around again, but it opened and clamped shut around Asamune's blade like a steel trap. Try as he might, he couldn't force his sword free. "I don't have time for this—that light would come in really handy right about now!" "Shut your eyes!" Chris obeyed, and felt the green light through his eyelids. The clown laughed again, and its grip on Asamune loosened just slightly. One tug from Chris, and the sword leaped free with a metallic shing. He stumbled back, shifting his grip on Asamune. Opening his eyes, Chris glimpsed the monster's startlingly pale belly as it reared up, the leather padding shifting as it moved. An idea struck him, and he dove forward, sword extended. Catching one of the seams, the blade plunged in. This blow drew a blood-curdling howl from the clown. More black fluid oozed out over the silver blade, hissing and steaming with heat. The clown fell flat on its back, pulling Chris forward so he almost fell down. It writhed as he climbed onto its stomach. Planting a foot on its body, he jerked his sword free. The monster rolled over, knocking him off, and he fell flat on his back. As the clown picked itself up, chuckling brokenly, it vanished. Chris sat up, but the thing was really gone. The street had gone silent, except for the sound of police sirens in the distance. Catching his breath, he rose and turned back to the wounded boy. Dripping purple monster blood, he crouched beside the teenager, who immediately caught him by the arm. "Thank you, thank you, thank you—" "Calm down," Chris said. "We've got a lot to talk about." Korassil's Ship, California Airspace, 11:09 am "Your timing is sufficient," Korassil said, looking into the medbay as Kelzak Berserks worked on the clown. "But why have Macabrester taken out of the fight at all? Giant-sized he would have given the Rangers a difficult battle." "I changed my mind," Alex said, turning away from the medbay. "I kind of like the idea of wimpy Rat clinging to Chris. Besides, honestly, how often does 'the same monster, just bigger' actually have an effect? By the time you get to the giant stage the Rangers already know how to defeat it." Korassil made a noncommittal noise, and Alex strolled away. Halfway to the door, he paused. "Oh yeah, and I'd like Recurse for the next fight, if it's all right with you." "Do as you think best." The White Jackalope, Mojave, 1:52 pm " . . . And they abandoned me," Rat was saying. "My own team was perfectly happy with me under a spell just because I was more 'helpful' that way. I didn't have a choice; I left as soon as the fight was over." Chris nodded. The two sat in one of the guest rooms of a local bed and breakfast, which they'd found after getting Rat through the ER. He'd told almost as many lies on the way back as they had in there. "So you came up here?" Chris asked. "I was trying to go home—to Louisiana—but the monsters chased me here. I was outnumbered, and I can't fight with this leg. If you hadn't shown up when you did, I'd be dead right now," Rat said. "You have a Zord?" Rat shrugged. "I left it in Belize. Even if I could summon it, I don't know how long it would take to get here." Silently, Chris looked out the window through the gauzy curtain. Blue and red flashes shone through the window from all the emergency vehicles at the battle site. Rat studied Chris's face, but couldn't tell what the older Ranger was thinking. "Please," Rat's voice turned pleading. "Can't wherever you're going wait? Just until my leg's healed, then I'll be able to take care of myself." "I wasn't going to leave you," Chris said, looking back at him. Rat perked up. "Really?" "Really. I'm only going to Blue Bay Harbor to help deal with the monsters; if there are monsters chasing you, I can't just leave you alone. Why don't you come with me? Four Rangers is four times the protection." "No. I want to go home," Rat replied firmly. Chris shrugged. "I can understand that. I'll be right back." Rising, he started towards the door, but paused halfway. "Do you want anything?" "No, I'm fine. Just be back soon." Nodding, Chris slipped out, shutting the door behind himself. Rat heard his footsteps fading as he headed up the hall and down the creaking stairs. Silence fell. Painfully, Rat got up and scooted to the window to look out. This would normally be the time some monster showed up to harass him. A few people passed by on the street below: a young woman jogging, an elderly man with a cane, and a muscular stranger in a hoodie who stopped on the other side of the street and looked up at the window. Rat sat back, out of sight. Slightly creepy, but not monster behavior. Heaving a huge sigh, he slumped back on his bed, running his hands over his face. "Finally." A gloved hand clamped down over Rat's hands, pinning them to his face. Eyes snapping open, Rat saw a Black Ranger standing over him. He struggled, only to feel something metal prick the side of his throat, just below his left ear. "This is a shuriken, and it's touching your carotid artery. One good jab—" he prodded Rat with the shuriken "—and you'll bleed to death in seconds. I'd hold still if I were you." Rat whimpered and obeyed. The shuriken moved away from his throat, and his shoulders slackened in relief. He stared up at his captor, waiting for what would come next. "If you'd prefer to keep your arteries unpunctured, you will listen very carefully to what I'm about to say, and you will repeat none of it to the Silver Ranger. Understood?" Slowly, Rat nodded. Cerro Gordo Street, Mojave, 5:44 pm Chris ducked behind a car just in time: the windows of the house he'd been standing in front of exploded, sending shards of glass in every direction. Smoke already filled the air, obscuring Chris's view of his attacker—or his new "teammate." Rat had said something about evacuating and bolted as soon as the creature appeared. Maybe he'd gotten past the Kelzak Berserks, Chris wasn't sure. He risked a glance at his attacker. It wasn't the same monster from before. Photos, lockets and other pieces of jewelry stuck to his body, and he jingled with each step. An antique sword dangled from one hand. "Why are the Rangers hiding from Recurse? Recurse just wants to bring back old memories," the monster called. Chris ninja-streaked across the road, pausing in the middle. He sensed Recurse turn and lunge at him; he sped safely around it while it impaled his mirage. Slashing it across the back, he stabbed it through the upper leg, dislodging several knickknacks. With a howl of pain, Recurse fired green eye beams at him, but he ducked and grabbed the monster in a bear hug. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris glimpsed something green, and looked around. Sure enough, Rat ducked back around the corner of a building. "Come on!" Chris yelled. Recurse clawed at his back, but he just pushed forward as hard as he could. Rat hesitated, and then shot towards them. Chris looked away, but there was no blinding flash this time. Instead, Rat's arms slid under his into a full nelson. Recurse's well-placed, solid kick weakened his grip so Rat could drag him away. "What—" "Now!" Rat yelled, shoving Chris aside. Chris just had time to see Recurse's eyes glow before the beams struck home, freezing him in place . . . ''"No," Alex said, not looking at Chris. "But how am I going to get any better if you won't let me spar with you? I've been practicing. Look." With a yell, the scrawny nine-year-old swung at the practice dummy. His wooden sword bounced off, making him stagger. Alex rolled his eyes and went back to his kata. Scrunching up his face in determination, Chris swung again with an even louder shout. This time he kept his balance, but Alex wasn't paying attention anymore. With a huff, Chris swung back too far, lost his balance and sat down hard. Hearing a laugh, he felt Alex come up behind him as he picked himself up. Reaching around him, Alex shifted his grip on the wooden sword. "Plant your feet wider, hold it more like this. Tell you what; once you've got this strike down, I'll spar with you. Deal?" Chris beamed up at his brother. "Deal!" "Lost in the past, Silver Ranger?" Recurse taunted. The blast had demorphed Chris, and now he sat in the middle of the road, staring blankly into space. One hand clasped Asamune at his side. Standing nearby, Rat watched the pair with visible nervousness. "Well done, Green Ranger," Alex's voice rang out, making Rat jump. The Black Ranger strolled forward and clapped the younger boy on the shoulder. "I knew you'd do the smart thing. Don't worry; we'll take care of you now." "Th-thanks." Rat didn't look very happy about it. "Take him up to the ship, will you?" Alex asked Recurse, who bowed and walked over to Rat. The boy flinched a little as the monster grabbed his arm, and they both vanished. Alone, Alex turned towards Chris. "You wanted to see us, Grandfather?" Chris asked, walking into the living room. Alex was right behind him, still breathless from his morning jog. "I think it's time for you to see what I've been training you for," the boys' grandfather, Rolland, said. He pulled back a panel in the wall to reveal a small alcove. In it stood a wooden stand holding a beautiful katana, black and silver. Its sheath and gear lay beside it, black leather embossed with silver symbols. Beside it lay an open box holding a matching silver morpher. Chris's jaw dropped. Alex ran forward, but Rolland stopped him with an arm. The teenager drank the weapon in, a longing expression on his face. "This is Asamune, a weapon linked to the ancient Tigerzord. Our family has guarded it for generations. I am growing old, and it is time for me to pass it on to you." "Are you sure?" Chris asked. "I'm ready," Alex replied, grinning. Rolland took the sword and stepped away from both teenagers. His expression was sober. "All members of our family have a part in protecting Asamune, but only one who is worthy may wield it—a man of strength, courage, determination and above all, honor, who will not misuse her powers." Looking from one grandson to the other, Rolland raised the sword and held it out, hilt-first. "Christian." Alex's smirk faded. "What?" "You are the better fighter, but you lack self-control," Rolland said, with clear reluctance. "You are not ready for this." "Th-then wait a year. I can learn self-control!" Alex's voice took on a desperate edge. Rolland's expression hardened. "I have chosen already. I will not choose again. Chris, take the sword." Chris started at his name. Hesitantly, he reached for Asamune. Shaking his head, Alex lunged for the weapon. Almost too quickly to see, Rolland caught his extended arm and twisted up. With a grunt of pain, Alex fell to his knees. "Please—" "You've just proven my decision right. Stop making a fool of yourself." Rolland shoved him away, and Alex sat down hard. Looking betrayed, he scrambled back and ran out of the room. Chris got up as if to follow, but his grandfather's curt shout stopped him in his tracks. Guiltily, he turned back. As soon as he touched the hilt, a faint humming rose in the air. It—she—wasn't a sword; she was part of his arm he hadn't realized he was missing. He forgot all about Alex. "Can you hear me right now?" Alex asked, crouching at Chris's level. "I really hope you can. I want you to know that I'm about to kill you, and not be able to do a thing about it." He reached around Chris's waist and unbuckled the sword belt. Taking it, he pried Chris's fingers off Asamune's hilt. The Silver Ranger didn't react, just blinked a few times as the wind blew smoke at him. "This is actually normal for guardians of Asamune; dying young. The same goes for dirty thieves who get between her and the true guardian." Alex put the tip of Asamune's blade to Chris's chest, hesitated, and moved it up to his throat. "So many choices. . ." "I warned you," Alex panted, setting the tips of his two swords to Chris's throat. Both brothers were out of breath, Chris lying on his back on the floor of a wrecked living room. "If you'd just given me the sword—" "She chose me, not you." With a flick of one sword, Alex cut a narrow slash along Chris's left cheekbone. He flinched as it started to bleed. "Don't get in my way if you want to live." That done, he walked past Chris, towards Asamune's alcove. Rolling over, Chris pushed himself to his feet. He moved after Alex, catching him by the shoulder. "Alex—" Whirling, Alex drew back to stab Chris, but a powerful hand clamped down on his arm, stopping the blow. Rolland stood there, his expression stony. Alex jerked free and backed up, swords raised. "You've done enough, Christian. I'll deal with him," Rolland said, drawing his own sword. "Oh, I know." Alex set the tip of the sword to Chris's stomach. "I want you to live long enough to listen to me. I mean, I haven't even told you what secrets I wormed out of Grandfather!" Alex drew in a slow breath, and prepared for the stab. He didn't know he was being watched. Category:Blog posts Category:Power Rangers: Lost Ninjas